


Don't Touch Me Now

by MindMangler



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 19:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindMangler/pseuds/MindMangler
Summary: Aziraphale finally realises that Crowley does indeed love him. But how to show his appreciation without saying those three little words?





	Don't Touch Me Now

"Well, this hasn't changed much." Crowley drawled, gazing around the dusty bookshop.

"Oh, hasn't it? I don't know. Probably a few more books, I should think." Aziraphale snapped his fingers and some lanterns sprang to flame, miraculously unseen from the street outside in the middle of Blitz London. He crossed the messy shop and carefully placed his books of prophecy back in their rightful place. “I seem to keep finding new ones.” He removed his hat and coat, and placed them neatly on the ornate coat stand in the corner.

"Yeah. Yeah, I expect you do." The demon sat in the chair Aziraphale offered to him, folding his tall, lean frame into the over stuffed cushions. “You're lucky I was nearby tonight.”

"Yes, quite. Thank you for the warning, and for... you know... the books." The angel retrieved a bottle of port from a shelf, set it on a tray with two glasses, and brought it over to place between the two of them.

"Anyone would have done the same." Crowley waved a dismissive hand. "Don't mention it."

"Still, I appreciate it." Aziraphale poured a glass of port for each of them and handed one to Crowley. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Crowley's drink was gone in one swallow. "You're too bloody pure sometimes, you know that?" He took off his hat, flung it aside and poured himself another drink, this time sipping the sweet wine slowly.

Aziraphale looked slightly affronted. “How so?”

“Nazis?” Crowley ran his slender fingers through his thick auburn hair, messing it up slightly. “You actually tried to outwit Nazis.”

“I had backup.”

“Yes. A _Nazi_.”

“Well, I didn't _know_ she was a Nazi.” Aziraphale frowned and took a sip of port.

“Oh well, that's good. Because if you'd known she was a Nazi and still tried to use her as backup, that would have been really stupid.” Crowley slouched down in the chair and scowled at his glass, studying the dark red liquid in the flickering light of the lanterns.

“I'm not going to fight with you tonight, Crowley.” Aziraphale's voice was soft and kind.

“I wasn't asking you to!”

“Look, if you don't want to be here, you don't have to stay.”

“Hmmph.” Was the grunted reply.

“No one is making you stay, least of all me.”

“I didn't say you were.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Leave, then.” Sometimes Crowley's mood swings seemed to give him actual, physical whiplash.

“I want to stay.” The demon muttered.

“Fine. Stay.” Aziraphale stood. “Drink. Sulk. Do whatever you like.” He stalked towards the back room, taking a moment to pause and select a book on his way.

“Fuck.” Crowley whispered the curse under his breath. One hand removed his sunglasses, the other reached out for the bottle of port. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He sprung up from the chair, and began pacing, swigging from the bottle as he went. “Fuck. Get yourself together, Crowley!” He slumped against a bookcase. “It's never going to be what you want it to be. Never. Never ever.” He drank deeply from the bottle of port, then hung his head. “Fuck.”

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, back to the old wooden shelf, head slung low like an angry child. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. He didn't know, nor did he care. But, minutes or hours or days later, a warm hand caressed his cheek, and he looked up to see Aziraphale. Standing close, his blue eyes warm in the lantern-light, and a gentle smile playing at his lips.

“I never did properly say thank you, for what you did.” The angel's voice was low and Crowley's eyes focused in on that beautiful mouth.

“Doesn't matter.” Crowley muttered. “S'fine, really. I get it.”

“You saved me, which you didn't have to do, and I certainly didn't expect after... well, after...” Aziraphale swallowed. “But you also saved my books, and I can't tell you how much that means to me.”

“I know.” Crowley couldn't look away from the angel's lips. So pink, so smooth, so warm. He hadn't realised just how much he had missed them. How much he had missed the angel – _his_ angel.

“No, you don't. You really don't know what it means.” His warm, gentle fingers stroked the demon's cheek. “Crowley, look at me.”

With effort, Crowley raised his golden, serpentine eyes to meet Aziraphale's pale blue ones. His breath hitched at what he saw there. The desire was nothing new, but was he seeing... was that the love he felt so strongly, so hopelessly, mirrored back to him? Hope sparked briefly, but Crowley smothered it. Aziraphale may still desire him, and be drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but he had made his feelings quite clear at St James's Park many decades earlier. Well, that was fine. Crowley would take whatever he could get.

“It means the world to me, that you did what you did tonight.” Aziraphale planted soft kisses around Crowley's lips as he spoke. “You gave me back something that I thought was irretrievable... irreplaceable...” The angel's voice was heavy with emotion as he trailed kisses along the demon's jaw.

“They're just books, angel.” Crowley's voice was hardly more than a whisper. Aziraphale made a small noise, somewhere between a sigh and a grunt.

“I have one request tonight, Crowley.” The angel pulled away and looked Crowley straight in the eyes. “Just one small request, but I should like it very much if you obeyed it.”

“Oh really?” Crowley raised one eyebrow, smirking at the serious expression on his friend's face.

“Yes, really. Will you?”

“Will I what?” Crowley's brows furrowed slightly.

“Will you obey my one request?”

“Well, what is it?”

“No.” Aziraphale shook his head. “No. Tonight I want to know that you will do it, without yet knowing what it is.”

“Angel, you know that's not...” Crowley sighed as Aziraphale's expression grew resolute. “All right, yes. Yes, I will obey your one request.”

“Good.” Aziraphale beamed at him, and rewarded his acquiescence with a kiss. “Now, I think we should go upstairs.”

“Is that the order?”

“Request, not order.” The angel turned and started towards the back room. “And no, it isn't that. It's just a jolly fine idea.”

“Jolly fine.” Crowley repeated almost mockingly, but he willingly followed behind Aziraphale. Through the dim back room, up the narrow staircase - all the while his hands roaming over the angel's back - and into the rarely used bedroom, already lit with the soft, warm glow of candles and lanterns.

“You can still change your mind.” Aziraphale said quietly, turning back to face him. “If you don't want to...”

“No, angel.” Crowley's voice was low and husky. “Whatever it is you want, I'll do it.” He reached his slender hands towards the angel's face, but Aziraphale lifted his own and grabbed them, holding them gently but firmly.

“Don't touch me.”

“I – Sorry, what?”

“That's the request. Don't touch me.”

“But, I thought...” Crowley glanced towards the bed, soft and warm like the angel, and piled with linens and the soft woollen blankets that the demon so loved.

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale smiled. “We are most definitely doing that.” He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Crowley's lips. “Or, I am. I want you to not touch me. I want to do everything to you, and for you to just experience it. To just _feel_. Is that all right?”

“That's it?” Crowley frowned.

“Yes.” Aziraphale led him over to the bed. “Please, get comfortable.” He sat on the edge and looked up at Crowley, his eyes bright and eager.

“Do you want me in this suit, or out of it?”

“Whatever you prefer.”

“Right.” Crowley snapped his fingers, and miracled his clothes away. “What about you?”

“Oh no, I'm just fine like this.” The angel patted the soft blanket behind him. “Lay down.”

The demon stared at the angel a moment, before he crawled onto the bed, stretching himself out, enjoying the feel of the soft wool, the dusty and faintly sweet smell of the bed, and how his naked body looked in the glow of the flickering candles. He looked up, and felt himself harden as he took in the expression on Aziraphale's face. Such open desire on that sweet face always took his breath away, affected him more than anything or anyone else ever could. But again, he was surprised to see more there, to see love there, he was sure of it. Not the angelic love Aziraphale had for every creature, no not that. But real love. Was it?

“Oh, Crowley...” The angel breathed, one hand reaching out and trailing along the demon's side, so lightly that he was hardly touching him. “You really are so beautiful.” He turned, shifting to kneel beside Crowley, his touch becoming firmer as his hand slid along his torso up to the demon's chest, his thumb running gently over a nipple. Crowley hissed softly, and Aziraphale smiled. “You like that?” He ran his thumb across the nipple again, and Crowley arched up towards his hand.

“Angel...” The word was little more than a whisper, and whatever may have followed was silenced as Aziraphale leaned down, softly tracing Crowley's lips with his tongue, before slipping it inside his mouth and kissing him slowly. Crowley moaned at the taste of the angel, and at the delightful shivers running through his lean frame as Aziraphale lightly ran his fingertips down his side, slowly, running up and down his rib cage. He lifted a hand to grasp at Aziraphale's hair, but the angel was abruptly gone, sitting primly once again on the edge of the bed.

“Don't touch, I said.” Aziraphale said, his voice slightly stern.

“But-”

“No.” Sterner still.

Crowley raised himself onto his elbows, and the two stared at each other in the candlelight for some time, before Crowley relaxed back into the blankets. He stretched out full length once more, gazing up at the flickering shadows on the ceiling.

“As you wish.” He sighed. The words were hardly finished and Aziraphale was there, straddling his waist now, leaning over him, fingers gently caressing his face. His feather-light touch was followed by the warmth of his lips, and Crowley fought against raising his hands. He gave himself over to the sensation of fingertips and lips on his skin, writhing slightly on the blankets, the wool caressing his back as the angel caressed his front. Aziraphale moved lower, licking, nipping and sucking at the demon's neck, shifting his own body further down on Crowley's. The demon groaned and gripped the blanket as the angel's still clothed figure brushed lightly over his erect cock. He bucked up against the woollen trousers, but Aziraphale moved to the side once again, this time lifting Crowley's arm and covering it in kisses. When he was finished with that arm, he stood and slowly circled the bed, his eyes never leaving Crowley's. He then settled himself back down and did the same to the other arm, his tongue leaving trails of fire, each kiss making the demon's heart beat harder, and each light nip of the teeth shooting straight to his groin. By the time the angel placed a final kiss into the palm of the demon's hand, Crowley was shaking from the effort of keeping his free hand clenched tight.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale ran his hand down the demon's stomach, trailing over his hip, drawing invisible patterns, watching as Crowley's skin shivered, as the taut muscles contracted, and the thick cock swelled.

“What?” Came the groan from between clenched teeth.

“Stop torturing yourself. I said you couldn't touch me, you can do as you please with yourself.”

“No.”

“No?” Aziraphale looked up, and tilted his head to the side.

“Just you.” Crowley took a deep breath and forced the hand gripping the blanket to relax. “I just want you.”

“Just me.” Aziraphale's voice was low, and he slowly stretched himself out on Crowley's right side. “I might not be done for hours, yet.” His hot breath tickled the demon's ear, and one finger slowly traced along Crowley's jaw. “Hours upon hours.” He licked at the snake sigil, and a shudder went through the demon, hot and delicious. Strong fingers smoothed his hair back from his forehead as the angel pressed himself as close against the demon as he could, hitching his right leg up and over Crowley's. “I could take days, if I wanted to.” A light nip at Crowley's ear lobe almost sent the demon over the edge, as Aziraphale did a slow grind against his hip.

“So, take days.” Crowley turned his head, and captured the angel's lips in a heated kiss. Aziraphale's grip on Crowley's hair tightened, and he hooked his leg tighter around the demon's, pressing against him almost desperately. “Take years, if you'd like.” Still fighting the urge to wrap his arms around Aziraphale, Crowley kissed him deeply, his tongue twining around the angel's, his small fangs nipping softly, and he thrilled to the moans that bubbled up in the angel's chest. Aziraphale's head tilted back and Crowley started nipping his way down the angel's throat, veering to the side, suckling as he felt the flutter of the angel's pulse. Rolling onto his side, he went to wrap his arms around Aziraphale, and found himself on his back, the angel straddling him once more, his arms pinned to the bed by the angel's strong grip.

“What did I say, Crowley?”

“What? Like you're going to stop?” Crowley writhed underneath Aziraphale. “You'd get this far,” he aimed a pointed look at the angel's crotch, the trousers tented uncomfortably. “_This_ far and just back off, just stop.” He arched his back. “Your angelic control is that good, is it?”

“Is that something you want to test right now, dear boy?” Aziraphale bent at the waist and lightly brushed his clothed form against Crowley's skin. The demon hissed and arched further, his back at an unnatural angle as he attempted to press himself into the angel. Aziraphale leaned away from him, smiling at Crowley's frown. “I can stop. I know I can stop.” He smiled. “But what about you? I don't think you can.” One hand lazily worked its way down from Crowley's wrist, down his arm, along his rib cage, and lower...lower... snaking in the thatch of curls before lightly encircling his cock.

“I know you _can_, angel.” Crowley raised himself even further, his body seemingly boneless in its attempt to meld to the angel. “But do you _want_ to?” He pressed himself against Aziraphale, seemingly melting into him and kissed him. “We can drag this out as long as you like.” He flicked his tongue against the angel's cheek, sleek, wet, and cool. Aziraphale's eyes fluttered closed and his body relaxed against the demon. “Don't you think _want _is so much more important than any discipline under the sun?”

“Crowley...”

“I mean, you can prove anything you want to prove, at any time you want to. Any time at all.”

“Yes, I can.” Aziraphale straightened up, gazing down at Crowley, who found himself on his back again and unable to move.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Not even a little bit, my dear fellow.' Aziraphale smiled and took his time moving lower and lower, slowly... so slowly that Crowley almost wept. The demon had no idea how much time passed, as the angel acquainted himself with every inch of his body. Front and back, there wasn't a part of his skin that wasn't licked, kissed, nipped, caressed... except for the one body part that was crying out for attention. All the demon could do was lay there and accept the worship, the adoration, the devotion, the _veneration_ the angel was lavishing upon him. His body was the Passion, and the devout Aziraphale was not missing a single station. His hands caressed with a reverence that Crowley almost felt ashamed to receive, and the kisses that followed sent fire to his groin. Finally, he cried out Aziraphale's name, desperate for release, for salvation, for deliverance from this sublime torture.

“Angel! Please!”

“Are you begging?” Aziraphale looked up with a smirk.

“Don't make me...” Crowley managed to writhe against the blankets, his body as full of pleasure as it was possible to be.

“Beg me, or I do nothing.”

“Angel...”

“I'm waiting.”

“No...” Crowley squirmed, trying to buck his hips, but Aziraphale's angelic grip was firm and resolute.

“Beg.” The angel trailed one finger over Crowley's sweat slicked stomach, the touch so light and shivery that the demon's stubbornness broke and he cried out.

“Please, angel! I beg you! I'm begging, Aziraphale... Please...”

“Well, then...” Aziraphale smiled and with a snap he was naked, his beautiful, rounded body glowing in the candle light. Crowley gasped and reached for him, his hands finally able to move as the angel positioned himself between the demon's legs. He spread them slowly, his hands warm on Crowley's inner thighs. He dipped low and teased the demon, running his tongue along the stiff length of Crowley's cock before swiftly lifting his buttocks and with a quick miracle, easing his way into the lubed warmth of the demon. Crowley sighed, relaxing as much as he could as Aziraphale filled him, lifting him effortlessly onto his lap. Finally able to move, the demon could do little more than cling to the angel's shoulders, riding wave after wave of bliss. At last, he felt as though he were separated from his body, as rapture thundered through him. He gasped and grasped at the angel, his human body quivering around him, and his ebony wings pushing out from his shoulder blades, stretching out to their full splendour, seemingly filling the small bedroom. It felt as though every muscle would tear as he climaxed, his wings fluttering, and his hot seed covering both their torsos. His body went limp, head dropping to the angel's shoulder, his wings gently resting against his back, as Aziraphale reached his own climax. Crowley shut his eyes and buried his face in Aziraphale's neck at the sudden bright light that surrounded them as the angel's own brilliant white wings burst forth, shimmering and blinding. Aziraphale gently lifted Crowley, pulling out of him slowly, placing soft and tender kisses on his shoulder as he did so. Wings retracted and the light in the room returned to the dull flicker of the the candles and lanterns as the two very satisfied beings lay together, each wrapped in the other's embrace.

“So...” Crowley trailed a finger along Aziraphale's arm. “That was a thank you.”

“What?” The angel actually sounded drowsy. “Oh... Yes. Yes, it was a thank you.”

“For what?”

“What does it matter?”

“So I know what to do next time.” Crowley smiled sleepily.

“I told you, my dear. You returned something to me I thought I had lost.”

“I'll hide your books all over the world, in that case.” The demon laughed softly and glanced at the angel, whose face remained serious. “Angel? It was the books, yes?”

Aziraphale stirred and gave a small smile. “Yes, the books. Of course. What else would it be?”

“I should go, I've got so much I should be seen to be doing.” Crowley stretched his back and tried to sit up, but Aziraphale's arms tightened around him.

“Plenty of time to be seen later, Crowley. How about you sleep? Just a short rest?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I could do that.” The demon settled back, body relaxing into the angel's soft warmth. He closed his golden eyes, and breathed deeply, the sweet smell of the angel, the tang of their hours together, the dusty smell of the room all combining to one glorious scent, lulling him to sleep. He spent so much time running around, saving Aziraphale from all the disasters he found himself in, but he never felt safer than when he was with the angel. He was almost asleep when he felt the angel's lips against his forehead.

“This night, and evermore.”

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this is a prequel fic to "It's Late But Not Too Late", with the post church scene mentioned in that fic being played out here.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm finally getting back into the groove of writing again, and as long as I keep rewatching GO, and listening to Queen songs, I will keep writing!


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